


this secret incognito thing

by kaori



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 22:06:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2041962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaori/pseuds/kaori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha's blown all her covers on every media platform available, so that makes her one of his now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this secret incognito thing

**Author's Note:**

> This was a quick collaboration piece with rngrn, originally posted [here on tumblr](http://rngrn.tumblr.com/post/84929762824), because we both have such a burning love for the platonic relationship between Tony and Natasha. Her artwork simply inspires more than what I can come up with.

Five months has done nothing to erase the controversy of the red-headed spy, her infamy upstaging even the initial shockwaves of Iron Man’s first public announcement. This upgrades Natasha to his new favourite in the superhero club of not so super secret identities—they’re small, but they’re growing, and he relishes in the solidarity. 

It’s not all perks, however. There’s an increased focus of camera crews loitering around the boundaries of the tower, hoping to catch sight of the elusive Widow. Tony should be used to the extra media attention by now, but he hasn’t been comfortable with that sort of thing since Malibu, and this level of scrutiny could drive anyone mad. 

Even with all her covers blown, it’s not impossible for Natasha to become someone else. Sometimes it’s too easy to start from scratch, even in the digital age—Tony helps make it infinitely easier for her. 

Sometimes though, she needs a break to remember who she isn’t and Tony’s too astute for his own good. So when Tony gets positively fed up with the constant flash of paparazzi every corner he turns, he throws a shiny, little compact with a gleaming Stark insignia at her head. 

Natasha catches it with a small flourish, eyes out the window—he’d appreciate her showmanship at least. 

“New toy. Put on a suit, we’re going to…” Tony pauses, and squints vaguely at the ceiling. “How about we choose when we get there?” 

It’s a chance to get away from the permanent limelight. 

When Natasha ducks out of the airport bathroom, shorter than Tony’s used to, hooded jacket in a shade that complements her now fiery hair, the prototype face-morph is already disintegrating away, the subtle changes on her features slowly returning to normal—it’s a drawback of getting that sort of technology through plebeian customs. He’s working on making it long-term, but for now it’ll do. At least no one’s pulled out a camera yet. 

“JARVIS,” Tony says, re-adjusting the hood of his sweater over his head as Natasha pretends to fuss with the collar of his jacket. He pushes the wireless earbud back into place for her. 

“Clear for thirty seconds, sir.” 

Natasha looks up, eyes scanning for every camera that has them in range. “Say, we’re late to the boarding gate and we really can’t miss this flight,” she suggests, a smile curling at her lips. 

Before Tony can respond, deceptively delicate fingers grab him by the wrist and tug him roughly to their terminal. He should appear more concerned, put on a show, but he can’t help but laugh breathlessly along. 

She pulls him to the corner lounge close enough to their gate, far away from most of the crowd, green eyes sweeping across the ceilings cameras to gauge their angles when JARVIS confirms surveillance is back up and running. 

Tony collapses back into the waiting chair. “I’m getting too old for this,” he mutters, throwing his head onto the backrest. He starts, only a little, when Natasha drops down onto his lap and swings her legs over the armrest. 

“Sure, whatever, happy to be a chair for the evening. You’re welcome.” He shifts around on the seat, sliding his ass closer to the edge to better support her weight. 

Natasha drops her head onto his shoulder, lowering it enough for him to see past her head a family taking too many happy snaps of their children who will no doubt cry the minute they step foot onto the plane. He’s not looking forward to that. 

“I guess this works,” Tony grumbles and pulls his trapped hand free to play with her hair. It’s darker than he remembers. “Keep an eye on things, J.” 

“Which eye?” JARVIS asks. Natasha huffs softly in amusement. 

“Ha.” Tony rolls his eyes. 

“Have you ever thought of blonde?” Tony asks, hand twisting through the strands that have grown a sizeable amount since he’d last seen her face splashed across every national news broadcast. 

“Hm,” she hums like she doesn’t care at all. 

Tony lets his arm fall, to rest on her thigh. “How about strawberry blonde?” 

She knocks her head against his in what’s definitely a resounding no. “Out of the gutter,” Natasha admonishes without feeling. 

New topic then. “Seriously though. _Economy_.” 

Another disinterested hum. 

“I could’ve bought that plane.” 

“I could’ve bought a first class lounge.” 

“I could’ve bought this _entire airport_.” 

Natasha peeks open an eye, and jabs him hard in the ribs. 

“We wouldn’t be in this mess if I let JARVIS take over the world.” 

Natasha makes a small noise of dissent and pushes her palm onto his face, pressing his glasses into the bridge of his nose. “тихо.” 

“Maybe I do own this place. Pepper would know. Maybe I should give her a call.” 

Natasha pushes her face into the crook of his neck and hisses, “I swear to god Stark, if I see another reporter before we get on this plane I will—” 

“Got it, jeez.” He pulls the arm resting idle in her lap and drapes it across his shoulders, covering his distinctive goatee. Tony leans back, assured by her weight in his lap. 

It’s the first time either of them can relax, disguised as the innocuous civilians they’re definitely not. 

“Wake me in an hour,” Natasha murmurs into his ear. 

They have three hours until boarding time. (He’ll wake her in two) 

It’s a nice break—cosy. He could get used to these trips.


End file.
